


Love Begets Love

by raspberrylimonade



Series: Love Begets Love [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-09-21 18:11:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9560894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberrylimonade/pseuds/raspberrylimonade
Summary: AU where everything is the same, except Stiles, Scott and Lydia are best friends since childhood, and Stiles and Lydia had a crush on each other since they were kids without knowing their feelings are mutual….until Scott and Allison work out a plan to bring those two oblivious idiots together.





	1. Wolf Moon

**Author's Note:**

> written for stydia-fanfiction on tumblr

“Hold on, if they already found the body, then what are they looking for?”

“That’s the best part. They only found _half_  the body. We’re going.”

* * *

Stiles drags Scott into the preserve to find half a dead body because 1. He _is_ the one always bitching that nothing happens in their town and 2. Lydia always sleeps early the night before school reopens.

Scott wants to sleep early. He needs to get a good night’s rest before practice tomorrow.

“I’m making first line,” he states, with a surprising amount of conviction.

“That’s the spirit!” his friend replies in mock enthusiasm. “Everyone should have a dream - even a pathetically unrealistic one.”

Scott lets the cynicism roll over him. He is pretty much immune to these kind of things, especially when the source is Stiles, having been best friends/sworn brothers since forever.

“What about you?” he asked. “When are you going to tell Lydia?”

“I’m working on it,” Stiles answers.

* * *

He’s not sure what happened. He somehow survived getting stampeded by a herd of deer, lost his inhaler, found the half-body (he did _not_ need to know which half of the body they were looking for, and Stiles was going to either kill him or hug the life out of him), got attacked and bitten by some _thing_ , and nearly got run over by a car, all in about three minutes. Scared and exhausted, he somehow made it home, panting and gasping for breath.

Scott doesn’t sleep that night. Every time he closes his eyes all he sees is the lifeless eyes of the girl staring at him, a wolf howling in the distance.

* * *

Stiles doesn’t believe he was bitten by a wolf. “Because California doesn’t have wolves, okay? Not in like, 60 years.”

He does believe Scott when he says he found the body.

“Oh god, that is freakin’ awesome. I mean, this is seriously going to be the best thing that’s happened to this town since the birth of - hey, Lydia!”

Scott smiles inwardly knowing that Stiles would have said Lydia’s name anyway as the redhead - no, _strawberry blonde_ , Stiles’ voice corrected in his head - walks up to them.

Lydia doesn’t think it is a wolf either. “There are no wolves in California, not in the last sixty years.”

Sometimes his friends are so alike it hurts.

* * *

“Go talk to her or I will.”

Scott likes the new girl, Allison, but is too shy to progress beyond lending her a pen, so Lydia approaches her on his behalf. They bond over fashion and Lydia invites her to watch lacrosse practice. She imagines Scott and Allison on a double date with her and Stiles and quickly quashes the idea. Stiles is her _friend_. Jackson arrives before she can dwell on it any longer anyway.

* * *

Jackson flirts with two girls at the same time. Stiles clenches his fists as he watches. Bad enough that Jackson already goes for Lydia on an hourly basis. Lydia is his girl. Well, not yet, but hopefully some day.

* * *

Scott was not expecting to get _this_ good at lacrosse. His movements are out of his world, given his previous standard, yet feel so natural to him.

His hearing had also improved. He heard Allison across the courtyard. Coach’s whistle was disorienting. And when he saved Jackson’s shot, the combined volume of Stiles and Lydia’s whoops in his ears was deafening.

And he can _smell_. He didn’t really notice it in school, maybe because the boys’ locker room always has a strong smell, but all the different scents in the preserve are driving him crazy. He focuses on the one smell he recognises: a faint citrus-y scent with a hint of mint.

He figures it’s the mojito gum in Stiles’ pocket and the lanky boy confirms it.

What the heck?

“What if it’s like an infection?” He asks Lydia “Like my body’s flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?”

Lydia opens her mouth to answer but Stiles beats her to it. “Yeah, I think I’ve heard of this. It’s called lycanthropy.”

“Not funny, Stiles!” Lydia scolds, the same time Scott asks “Is it bad?”

Stiles jokes that he is a werewolf while Lydia starts sprouting names of diseases he could have contracted from wild animals.

* * *

Derek Hale is really creepy. At least he returned his inhaler. Thing is, Scott thought he smelled blood on the guy.

* * *

Allison Argent is here. In the clinic. Wearing his shirt.

Now he knows how Stiles feels when he looks at Lydia. Maybe it’s eight times better, since Stiles has been in love with Lydia for as long as they’ve been friends. Scott wonders what it’s like to love someone for so long. He wonders if he’ll be in love with Allison for that long.

When she agrees to go to the party with him, he thinks he totally can. For a while he forgets about his miraculously healed wound.

* * *

Stiles listens to his dad on the phone. It’s about forensic evidence - definitely not a boring call. They found animal hairs on the body. Oooh, interesting. The hairs seem to be from a wolf. Now he’s concerned.

* * *

“Where are you getting your juice?”

What the fuck?

Scott’s had a weird enough morning. He woke up in the woods, got chased by some _thing_ again, and now Jackson is asking weird questions. Also, Jackson is giving off this really strong scent.

“there’s no way in hell you’re out there kicking ass on the field like that without some sort of chemical boost.”

“Oh, you mean steroids!” Jackson’s scent stings his nose and Scott wonders. “Are you on steroids?”

The smell is overwhelming as Jackson vows to find out what he is up to.

* * *

“I think Scott really is a werewolf.”

Lydia is practical, down-to-earth, but Stiles knows she can’t deny that their friend is acting weird, and the forensic evidence is odd. She is the smartest of the three of them afterall.

They do research.

Lydia Martin is in his room, leaning over his shoulder to read articles of arcane knowledge and werewolf folklore. Her hair brushes the side of his head and Stiles feels his cheeks burn. He gets really turned on when she pushes him aside to check out something she found. Her brow furrows in concentration and she tilts her head. It’s the cutest thing he has ever seen.

* * *

Lydia finds it hard to not focus on Stiles as he bumbles around his room to find more paper. His arm brushes hers as he feeds them into his printer, scorching her skin. She’s suddenly aware that they are in his room. Alone. Without Scott or his dad around. She shakes her head, she’s here to find out what’s wrong with her best friend, not lust after her other best friend. But Stiles seems so concerned for Scott it’s endearing.

* * *

Scott is agitated. Stiles is tactless.

Lydia is supposed to be the voice of reason amongst the three, so she steps in.

“Look Scott,” she says softly, rubbing her hand up and down his back to calm him down. “I know it’s hard to believe - I thought Stiles was still joking at first. It might all sound like a myth but the all the signs match up. The way you moved, your speed, your reflexes. I know you’ve been training but people don’t suddenly improve so fast, Scott. And there’s the vision and the senses, and don’t even think we don’t notice that you don’t need your inhaler anymore.”

Scott’s breathing slows and he seems to consider this.

“Okay,” he finally says. “So if you’re right - which is really crazy, by the way - what am I supposed to do? I’m picking Allison up in an hour.”

“You gotta cancel this date,” Stiles says bluntly.

Scott leaps up from where he was seated on the bed. “What?! Why?”

“The full moon’s tonight, Scott. And it won’t just cause you to physically change,” Stiles rattles. “It’s also when your bloodlust will be at it’s peak.”

“Bloodlust?”

“Yeah, you’re urge to kill.”

“I’m already feeling an urge to kill, Stiles.”

Lydia glares at Stiles as she tugs at Scott’s shoulder, trying to make him sit back down and listen. He needs time to digest. Unfortunately Stiles has always travelled at rocket speed.

She pushes Scott back down onto Stiles’ covers and grabs one of the books Stiles’ had gotten earlier. “Scott, look. "The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse.“ I haven’t seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does,” _and Stiles right now,_ she thinks. “You’re gonna put yourself and Allison in danger.”

Stiles slips to Scott’s other side and takes his friend’s phone. “Okay, Scott? You gotta cancel this date. I’m calling Allison right now.”

Scott half yells, half growls and shoves Lydia aside, pouncing on Stiles. Lydia rolls off the bed and scrambles to her feet just as Scott shoves Stiles up the wall. There’s a feral look in his eyes and a low rumbling sound coming from his throat. She shrieks as Scott cocks an arm back. Scott McCall is the most gentle person she has ever met. She has never in eight years of knowing him seen him push or hit anyone, not even when others pushed or hit him, much less do it to his best friends. Her side still aches where his hand had made impact and she thinks it might bruise.

She watches as his back rises and falls - he’s not going to hit Stiles, is he? Then in a flash of movement, Scott has whipped away from Stiles and sent his office chair flying across the room. Lydia jumps out of his way as he stalks past her towards the door.

There is a pause after Scott leaves, then Stiles is at her side, asking if she’s okay.

“I’m fine,” she mumbles, still in shock.

“Lydia,” Stiles says firmly, and she looks down.

The fabric of her shirt is torn, the revealed skin already turning purple. She looks up and her eyes meet Stiles’ equally wide ones. He has one hand on her shoulder and the other at her side, thumb carefully rubbing circles on the bruise. Her flesh feels tender, but his touch is comforting.

At least she didn’t turn out as bad as the slashed chair.

* * *

Alcohol and sweaty people both have very distinct scents. The smell of both mixed together in a space as big as someone’s backyard was enough to knock Stiles out. He wondered what the party smelled like to Scott.

Werewolf Scott. Desperate, excited, out-of-control Scott.

The closely-packed sea of people make it impossible for him to dance without constantly brushing up against Lydia, who looks stunning in her party dress, like she always does. However, he is too focused keeping an eye on Scott to freak out about dancing in close proximity to his best friend whom he’s also had a crush on for as long as he’s known her.

Scott comes barreling through the crowd, sweaty and a little delirious. Stiles and Lydia share a look before Stiles grabs her wrist and drags her after their friend.

* * *

Stiles is not all surprised when Scott says Derek Hale (aka Mr Dark and Creepy) is a werewolf too. But maybe he should not have mentioned the part about Allison leaving the party with Derek.

He drives to the Argent house with Lydia yelling that he was going to get a speeding ticket again before speeding off to the preserve.

* * *

“Hi, Mrs Argent. I’m Lydia, I’m a friend of your daughter.”

Allison’s mother gives Lydia a tight smile. “Ah yes, she mentioned you,” the woman says, stepping aside to let Lydia in.

When the dark-haired girl appears on the upstairs landing, Lydia lets out a breath she did not know she was holding.

She tells Allison that Scott was sick because he has a ‘medical condition’ - it’s not entirely false since he _did_ have asthma - and they make small talk. Allison is nice. It’s easy to be around her. They chat about shoes and homework and exchange numbers. Lydia promises to make Scott apologise to Allison in person before Stiles picks her up again.

* * *

Here’s a fact: arrows hurt.

Scott wishes he didn’t have to find out the hard way.

He’s a werewolf, hunters attacked him, and creepy Derek Hale, who is also a werewolf, saved him.

“The bite is a gift.”

Make that creepy, _delusional_ Derek Hale.

* * *

They spend the night driving around the preserve in Stiles’ jeep hoping to find Scott.

They finally find him just as day breaks, shirtless and slowly walking home.

Scott tells them about Derek and the hunters, showing them his injured arm. The wound has mostly closed up and is now just a scar.

“You know what worries me the most?” Scott begins.

“If you say Allison, I’m gonna punch you in the head,” Stiles tells him.

“Not a good idea,” Lydia mutters. Unlike Scott’s wound, the bruise at her side is very much _not_ healing.

Scott worries that Allison hates him. Lydia tells him she already covered for him and he looks slightly relieved, but he is still nervous. He doesn’t know how to apologise to Allison.

“You could just tell her the truth,” Stiles suggests, “and revel in the awesomeness of the fact that you’re a frickin’ werewolf.”

Lydia reaches over the console and punches him. Then she turns to look at Scott in the backseat. His head is hung and he looks so dejected.

“Hey, we’ll get through this, okay?” she promises him.

Stiles agress. “I’ll chain you up myself on full moon nights and feed you live mice. I had a boa once. I could do it.”

Scott snorts and looks up. There is a small smile on his face. “We don’t need to remember the boa, Stiles,” he says. They all laugh.


	2. Second Chance at First Line

Scott is in love with a girl whose father shot him with a crossbow.

Stiles wants to laugh at how much that sounds like ________ book or movie. So many options to fill that blank, he can’t choose. And it’s only been just over 24 hours.

Then he notices Lydia (because when does he not?) side-eyeing him and stops himself from chuckling. He knows she knows he is mentally comparing his best friend to a bunch of fictional characters. He can’t help it - Scott’s so worried yet still so head-over-heels it’s _hilarious_. It’s a wonder Stiles hasn’t burst out laughing yet.

“Yes her father!” said best friend yells, then collapses backwards into his locker. “Oh my god…”

Stiles and Lydia catch one hand each, pulling Scott back up. This is their usual prelude to Slapping Sense into Scott McCall and Helping Him Look At Something Logically Instead of Freaking Out.

“No, Scott, snap back,” Stiles chides. “He didn’t recognise you, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Does Allison know about him?” Lydia asks.

Scott’s slightly relieved face quickly turns panicked again. “I don’t know, what if she does? This is going to kill me, man.”

Stiles pulls his friend’s lacrosse stick from his locker before Scott can slide back down against it and spiral into a depressed state of worry and pessimism. He shoves it into Scott’s hands as Lydia holds the boy upright and together they drag their friend to practice.

* * *

Scott isn’t himself. His movements are lethargic and Lydia can see his back rising and falling as he pants heavily. It’s almost as if he is struggling with himself. Coach’s brash way of pushing the team isn’t helping.

She smirks inwardly when Jackson goes down grabbing his arm. But then her worst fears are confirmed when Stiles starts dragging Scott towards the changing room. Lydia swears under her breath as she gathers her books and quickly heads back inside the school building.

She hears the growling and the scrambling before she even reaches the room. Stlies barrels into view as she pushes open the ajar door. His eyes go wide when he sees her and he starts flinging his arms at her. _Go! Get out!_

Then Scott appears on top of a row of lockers, snarling at them. Lydia shrieks and grabs the closest thing she can find - the fire extinguisher next to the door. The same time Stiles slams into her and starts trying to push her out of the room and Scott saltos to the ground right in front of them.

She yells something unintelligible and that’s when Stiles notices the fire extinguisher between them. He rips it from her hands and fumbles as she screams “Pull the pin! Pull the pin!” repeatedly at a higher pitch than she’d like to admit.

Lydia ducks out of the locker room as soon as the spray goes off, pulling Stiles with her, hoping maybe it’ll distract Scott long enough for them to run and find a way to deal with their feral friend. But it turns out they don’t need to. Scott is now Scott - normal, gentle, lovable, perpetually confused Scott. She and Stiles shuffle into the room and break the bad news - he can’t play his first game.

* * *

“What the hell were you thinking?” Stiles asks as he turns away from Scott’s house onto the main street.

Somehow, Lydia knows exactly what he’s talking about.

“I was thinking that you were in there alone with someone who wasn’t aware of who he was and very capable of ripping you to shreds!” she says, annoyed.

“You shouldn’t have worried about _me_!” Stiles exclaims, incredulous. “He already unknowingly hit _you_ once!”

“Uh-huh? Have you seen your chair lately?” Lydia retorts. “That was nearly _you_ , Stiles!” An image flashes through her head of a bloodied Stiles with deep gashes across his chest. Something constricts inside her and she squeezes her eyes shut, pushing the image out of her mind.

Stiles watches as Lydia scrunches her face and rub her temples. His chest tightens. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice.

It was true that Scott (wolfed-out Scott who didn’t know he was Scott) could have easily mauled him in the locker room. But it could have just as easily been Lydia, when she decided to walk in. Suddenly it occurs to Stiles how dangerous this werewolf business can be.

He turns to the strawberry blonde slouched in the passenger seat, staring at her hands.

“Just…be careful, okay?” he tells her softly. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

She nods her head. “You too.”

* * *

Scott slumped in his chair. He nearly killed his best friends. He was going to have to let his mom down. And he might have confused her as to whether he was on drugs or not (honestly, he wasn’t sure. What if some werewolf saliva had gotten into him? Lydia said things could be transmitted via saliva. Did that count as a drug?).

Oh, that and he separated Jackson’s shoulder. Though Stiles says it’s “because he’s a jerk!” Honestly, Scott can’t feel too bad about Jackson, but that means all the more he is expected to play the game on Saturday.

Then Stiles’ face turns serious. He types: _Lydia do you see that?_

Lydia frowns, then her eyes widen as well, and she starts typing too: _it looks like_

His computer chooses that moment to hang, and the moment it loads again Scott nearly gets a heart attack.

He sees the double _someone’s behind you_  just a split second before Derek Hale has him up against his own bedroom wall.

“If they find out what you are, they will find out about me, they will find out about all of us. And there won’t be only the hunters after us, but everyone!” the older werewolf snarls.

“They didn’t see anything, I swear!” Scott yells.

“And they won’t, because if you even try to play Saturday, I’ll kill you myself.”

* * *

Well, it’s not as if he didn’t try. Coach distracted him. Plus, Coach has a way of turning what he says around. It’s confusing. But anyway, he’s playing.

Scott’s still a little lost when Allison comes up to him and tells him she will be watching the game too. Oh no. Allison and his mom. Not good.

Stiles drags him aside to eavesdrop on his father and some cops. There’s a curfew because of the body. Not that it helps since Derek can somehow enter his room any time of the day. But he can’t make Stiles try to explain Derek to his father.

Stiles suggests they find the other half of the body to implicate Derek.

“Are you kidding?” Lydia and Scott ask at the same time.

* * *

When he sees Allison again later she has a jacket with her.

Last time he saw the jacket it was with Derek.

* * *

Scott spots a square of freshly turned soil next to Derek’s house. When he looks back at the house Derek is suddenly there. He jumps back. Teleportation might be a werewolf power, since that guy can appear out of nowhere.

“Stay away from her! She doesn’t know anything!”

“You don’t get it, but I’m looking after you!”

Scott wants to yell and wolf out and punch a hole through Derek’s head. If he is so worried about Scott shifting how about some advice on how _not_ to shift?

Unfortunately he doesn’t wolf out. His blood pumps in his ears though and his senses get turned all the way up. He catches a scent - a mixture of his mother when she comes out of an operating room and the biology lab when they do dissections.

* * *

They go to the hospital. Scott’s going to sneak into the morgue and smell the half-body. If it matches the scent he caught at Derek’s, all their problems will be solved. Well, most of their problems. They will still have to find a way to help Scott play lacrosse without killing anybody.

Stiles rolls his eyes when Jackson appears. He forgot the guy was at the hospital because of his shoulder. Ha, serves him right.

Jackson saunters up to Lydia and starts talking to her, telling her about his medication and telling her that he will get another shot before the game - “Like what the pros do all the time,” he boasts. Stiles is pretty sure that’s actually abusing the meds. Lydia smiles at Jackson and Stiles feels something burning inside his stomach.

As soon as Jackson walks away, Lydia unzips her jacket and pushes her hair behind her shoulder, revealing that she had been listening to music all along, her phone tucked into a pocket on the inside of her jacket. She grins. “I didn’t get any of what he just said, was it important?”

Stiles feels his heart do a little victory dance. _Take that, Jackson._

It doesn’t last long though, because Scott returns, looking pale.

“The smell was the same.”

Lydia pulls her earpieces out. “Are you sure?” she asks.

“Yes!”

So the other half was really buried on Derek’s property.

“So Derek did bury the other half on his property,” Lydia states, taking the words out of his head. Stiles’ stomach somersaults.

“Which means we can prove he killed the girl,” Scott concludes.

Lydia purses her lips and frowns. “But Scott, are you doing this because you want to stop Derek? Or because you want to play the game and he said you couldn’t.”

“There are bite marks on the legs!” Scott exclaims.

* * *

Stiles is alone when he picks up Scott.

“Where’s Lydia?” Scott asks.

“Her mom came home early so they went for dinner,” Stiles explains. Scott feels a little less sure of the plan without both Lydia and Stiles with him, but he knows Lydia doesn’t get to spend a lot of time with her mother so he understands.

The area around the house smells slightly different when Scott hops out of the jeep, but he cannot put his finger on it.

Digging takes slightly less effort than Scott expects it to, possibly due to his werewolfness (what did Stiles call it again - lyacanotopy?) giving him extra strength.

When they uncover the wolf body, Scott realises the difference in scent is because now it smells more like the vet clinic whenever they have to stitch up an injured animal.

Stiles is right - he is not prepared for this. He doesn’t even know the deal about the flower. Scott figures it’s important since it’s called _wolf_ sbane.

Stiles pulls out the flower and uncoils the rope attached to it’s roots. Scott studies his friend’s determined face as the last length of the rope is pulled out and when he looks back - holy crap. Scott jumps back. He’s seen the lifeless stare of the half-body one too many times.

* * *

Stiles has always been curios by nature. He’s glad he isn’t a cat, because his curiosity would probably have killed him by now.

He sneaks into the cruiser while his dad isn’t looking.

Derek Hale glares at him. That guy really does have the face and demeanour of a killer.

“The girl you killed,” Stiles asks, “She turned herself in an actual wolf and I know Scott can’t do that. Is that why you killed her?”

Honestly, he expected Derek to just continue silently glaring at him. So he jumps slightly when the older guy opens his mouth. Derek doesn’t answer they question anyway, instead telling him to stop Scott from playing lacrosse. As if Stiles doesn’t know that.

* * *

Lydia isn’t surprised when the boys call her in the morning. Scott and Stiles relay their findings and tell her to find information about wolfsbane used in burials. She types away but comes up with nothing.

“Maybe it’s like a ritual or something, like maybe they burry you as a wolf!” Stiles’ voice suggests. “Or maybe it’s like a special skill, you know, like something you have to learn.”

“We also have to figure out how am I supposed to play the game tonight,” Scott reminds them. Lydia hears an edge of worry in his voice.

Stiles however, is on a roll, and Lydia has known Stiles long enough to know that once he gets caught up in possibilities, it’s hard to get him out. “Maybe it’s different for girl werewolves.”

Scott yells at him, sounding frustrated. Lydia sits up. _Oh no._ What is Scott shifts in the jeep? What if he attacks Stiles? What if they crash?

Lydia yells at her phone while she hears the boys shouting about Stiles keeping something, and then she hears the brakes screeching and her heart hammers. The line goes silent but doesn’t disconnect.

“Stiles?” Lydia calls. “Scott?”

Nothing. Her heart pounds. Then she hears some rustling and Stiles voice sounds in her ear. “Lydia?”

She lets out a relieved sigh and slumps in her seat. Stiles tells her about the wolfsbane and that Scott ran away.

“I’m gonna call my dad, call you back,” he says.

* * *

Scott is soooo screwed. He somehow ended up on Allison’s driveway and nearly got run over by her werewolf hunter father. Who is also attending the game. Great. The chances of him surviving tonight are cosmically small.

And still - 

“If I don’t play, I lose first line AND Allison.”

Lydia puts a hand on his shoulder. “Scott, Aliison won’t go away just like that. You can explain that you’re not feeling well.”

“And it’s just one game that you don’t need to play!” Stiles adds.

Yes he does, his whole life is relying on this game. He can have everything he’s ever wished for.

“Just try not to worry too much when you’re out there, okay?” Stiles tells him, slapping his back. 

“Or get too angry,” Lydia adds.

“Or stressed,” Stiles continues.

Scott nods, focusing on the areas of his back and shoulder in contact with his friends’ hands. _Deep breaths_ , he tells himself. _In, out. In -_

Stiles voice interrupts. “Don’t think about Allison being on steps.” At the sound of her name Scott’s mind conjures up the image of Allison in the clinic, in his shirt. Scott’s heart skips a beat. 

“Or that her dad wants to kill you.” Scott’s heart beats faster. He thinks about Mr Argent in the stands, crossbow at the ready. His arm twitches.

“Or that Derek wants to kill you. Or the girl he killed.” Scott thinks of Derek clawing through his lacrosse stick. His blood boils. 

“Stiles,” Lydia warns. But the boy with the buzz cut goes on unfazed. 

“Or that you might kill someone. If a hunter doesn’t kill you first!” Stiles sees the two pairs of eyes, one green and one brown, narrowed at him. “Okay, sorry, I stop…” He pats Scott on the back again. “Good luck.”

* * *

Why is his dad here? He doesn’t even play!

_Oh crap_ , Stiles thinks. Now his dad is going to find out about Scott.

“You’re expecting to see action tonight?” his dad asks.

_Oh, you have no idea._ Stiles thinks. But instead he says, “Action? Maybe…”

He exchanges a panicked glance with the strawberry blonde in the stands a few rows behind him.

* * *

Scott hasn’t touched the ball the entire game. He’s been in an open position a few times. Lydia knows Jackson is behind this. She knows some of the guys in the lacrosse team have nothing against Scott, but they will unquestionably follow whatever Jackson says.

Scott’s back in slightly hunched. And Lydia swears she caught a flash of yellow under his helmet at one point. he is already half wolfed out. Her eyes trail to the bench where Stiles has his hands clasped to his face. She recognises his anxiety and knows he is aware of Scott.

Allison is murmuring next to her, and next to Allison, Mr Argent is watching intently. _Please be okay, Scott_ , Lydia thinks.

* * *

Stiles can hear Scott growling at the opposing players. He doesn’t know how anyone hasn’t caught on yet, maybe they are too intimidated to consider how weird it is. They did pass Scott the ball after all.

At least Scott is scoring now. Stiles prays it will boost Scott’s ego, make him less angry, and everything will be fine. Seems like the adrenaline still keeps Scott half-wolfed out.

* * *

Everything is a blur of green and red. Then he hears her voice.

“ _You can do this, Scott…”_

His vision sharpens rapidly and Scott makes out the opposing goal before him. His newfound athleticism puts the ball into the net.

The crowd roars and everything is a mess again. His head spins. He can’t feel his legs. He needs to get out of here.

Scott somehow stumbles into the locker room. He knows where he is because he can feel the tiles when he collapses against the shower wall.

“ _Scott? Are you here?”_

He finds the strength to push himself up.

_“Scott?”_

His head stops throbbing and his heart stops slamming in his chest.

“ _Are you okay?”_

His head involuntarily turns towards the sound of her voice. He makes out her shape approaching him before his vision clears.

Allison asks if he is alright. She didn’t see him shifted. Scott is so happy he doesn’t pay attention to what he is saying.

“To be completely honest, you… make me kind of nervous…”

Allison pulls her lip in shyly. “I do?”

She tells him he has his second chance. And then her lips are on his. He hears something echoing nearby but shoves it aside. When she pulls away, it’s as if he has tunnel vision, and everything is blurred to streaks except Allison.

Lydia appears shortly after Allison leaves, and Scott celebrates his kiss with her. The euphoria is short lived, however, because Stiles comes stumbling into the room.

Derek is released from jail. And the dead body was that of his sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am _raspberrylimonade_ on tumblr and _stlnkissmartin_ on twitter.


	3. Pack Mentality

Scott shows up to school shaken and while Stiles doesn’t have much luck at first, as soon as Lydia shows up the duo force their furry friend to spill: Scott dreamt of killing Allison on a school bus during their date. 

“It just means you’re afraid of hurting her,” Lydia tells him. “In dreams the brain comes up with scenarios in order to prepare for them.”

It calms Scott down, until they pass the bus lot and see the damaged and covered-in-blood bus. Scott panics, dragging his friends into the building as he tries to get out of their vice grips. They end up slamming into a random locker. Scott, in a panic-induced haze, presses his hands against the blue metal and pushes - shaking Stiles and Lydia off him as he runs, the hallway turning into a blur. 

He only stops when he crashes into someone. Allison. 

He’s never felt more relieved.

* * *

During lunch, Stiles gets a update from his phone that the victim was a bus driver. Scott knew him. The driver was a regular at the clinic until his last cat passed on, and would always make conversation with him. His breaths become shallow and quick. His tightening grip on the edge of the table does not go unnoticed.

“Enough talk about this, we’re all freaking out enough,” Lydia says, nudging Scott’s leg under the table before he wolfs out. “Change of subject: you two going out tonight, yes?”

“I’m not sure we can. Do you think there will be a curfew?” Allison wonders.

“I hope not,” Lydia cuts in before Scott guilts himself into wolfing out again. “Stiles and I were planning to go bowling tonight while you two…what were you guys gonna do for your date again?” she improvises.

Scott and Allison share a look, the former looking like a deer caught in headlights. “We…haven’t really decided on anything yet.”

So Lydia nudges her foot against the side of Stiles’ calf under the table preemptively, telling him to _just go with it_.

Stiles looks up from his phone. “Why don’t you join us?” he suggests. And then it hits Lydia what she has thrown herself into: a double date. Allison and Scott paired up leaves her and Stiles. She kicks herself mentally, putting on a smile to not risk drawing Scott or Allison’s attention.

Allison agrees, and Stiles lowers his head to his phone, no doubt pressing his dad for more details through text.

Lydia’s phone lights up with a message from him though, seconds later. _That was smart. We can keep an eye on them this way in case Scott shifts_  it reads. Oh, she hadn’t thought of that.

* * *

Deaton tells the sheriff the driver seems to have been attacked by a wolf, and the driver freaks out when Scott visits his mother. He goes to see Derek who tells him yes, he will hurt or even kill someone. Thanks for the vote of confidence. Derek also tells him to go back to the bus.

At least later when Scott, Lydia and Stiles go to the bus before the group date, Scott recalls he was trying to save the man from another werewolf. That has to count for something, right? Relieved, they drive to get Allison.

* * *

The car ride (well, technically _jeep_  ride) is surprisingly high-spirited, given that Scott had been sunken with guilt the whole day. They laugh and sing and make bets on who will have the most gutterballs. The moment they burst through the doors of the bowling alley however, much of their built-up excitement dissipates.

Jackson and his cronies are here. And of course they got the lane next to theirs. 

Jackson’s eyes follow the foursome as they make their way to the empty lane and seem to fixate on Scott the longest. Stiles doesn’t like that fact.

He’s truly sorry for Danny, really. Poor guy’s just trying to be friendly and gets a half-hearted high five from Stiles, who is still busy glaring at Jackson. He wonders for a moment why a perfectly nice guy like Danny puts up with a douche like Jackson then notices said douche has turned his attention to Lydia. Stiles puts a hand on her shoulder for good measure.

* * *

Back in middle school, Lydia did a science presentation about whether it was really possible for the prince to scale the tower with Rapunzel’s hair. She made ready with her diagrams, calculations, and drawings of braids to study their tension, all arranged on a nice pink vanguard sheet. She even wore a matching pink dress with new mary janes and had her hair braided for the occasion. Then the moment she stepped into class, Jackson Whittemore saw her poster and ridiculed her for still being obsessed with princesses. She remembers freezing in front of the class while they laughed at her, her cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

Even now he still makes her face burn. And not in a good way.

Then she feels the hand on her shoulder, steering her away from Jackson’s condescending gaze. She doesn’t need to look to know whose hand it is. Because when she had finally made her way to her seat that day in middle school, her head was hanging low until someone yanked her vanguard out of her hands.

_“I like the castle,” young Stiles had said, eyes darting all over the paper, not really focusing on one thing._

_Something fluttered in her chest. “Really?” Lydia asked.  
_

_Stiles grinned and handed her her poster. “Yeah, it looks very nice. Maybe Ms Audrey will give you one of her new gold smiley face stickers.”_

Her face turns red for a whole new reason.

* * *

Scott knows he is a terrible bowler. The last time he bowled was eight years ago and even then he was a disaster. Even Stiles, who flailed and tripped over the bumpers, had a better track record than him.

“You’d think the universe would be kind enough to make even the most mediocre person good at at least one thing,” he hears Jackson tell his buddies. “But some people are just too pathetic.”

Jackson’s been going at him all evening. This is a terrible date. Allison will find out how worthless he is and she’ll never want to go out with him again and - 

“Scott.”

Allison. Oh god, he’s never gonna hear her voice after tonight…

“Scott.” Now her hands are on his arm. Scott closes his eyes, focuses on her voice and touch.

“You’re thinking too much,” she tells him.

“I know,” he replies. “I’m sorry, I’m ruining this.”

“No, no not at all,” Allison says. Scott turns and blinks at her. Big brown eyes, curly dark hair framing her face, she has got to be to most amazing person if she hasn’t had enough of him.

“But I wouldn’t mind Jackson shutting up,” Allison continues. “So…just clear your head and think about something else.”

He turns back to the lane. “About what?”

Her breath fans across his ear, nearly sending him into a daze. “Think about me…”

That he can do. Not like he doesn’t already do it all the time.

“…naked.”

That’s when his brain short circuits. When he comes to, he can hear Lydia and Stiles screaming behind him and there’s not a single pin left standing.

Allison coolly tells Lydia that she’s up before looking up at him. She beams proudly. He makes it his personal mission to keep that smile on her face for the rest of the night.

* * *

Lydia gets a strike obviously.

There’s a loud whoop behind her and she turns to see Stiles on his feet, cheering loudly for her and complimenting her perfect form. Of course she has perfect form. But her cheeks heat up nonetheless.

She shouldn’t be getting so flustered by Stiles complimenting her bowling skills. He has been talking about her many talents since they met, and she has always been the best bowler in the trio (her, Scott, Stiles). She also shouldn’t be blushing so much when Stiles casually drapes his arm over her shoulders. Or earlier, when he leaned across her to grab some chips from Allison, her heart shouldn’t have skipped a beat. He had done things like that countless times before - since when did they make her react like that?

She’s known Stiles since she was six, and back then her heart did not race whenever he was near her or spoke her name. She can’t remember when it started doing so. She’s glad Scott is too taken with Allison to hear her small gasp when Stiles squeezes her shoulders.

She is lining up for another strike when she hears an obnoxious voice mutter: “Show off.” She falters and her ball goes careening off course, taking down only half the pins.

She hears a few cackles and turns around, trying her best to smile. Allison returns the expression while Stiles and Scott are glaring at the back of Jackson’s head.

“That was great, Lydia!” Allison says brightly as Lydia takes her seat. Then the brunette girl’s expression turns a little sly. “Stiles was quite impressed.”

Lydia feels her face burn. “I’m not trying to impress anybody,” she says. Her voice comes out small and flat. Allison smirks.

“Whatever you say, Lydia,” the taller girl says in a sing-song voice. “But you’ve been blushing all night.”

* * *

“You cheated tonight,”

It takes Scott all his willpower not to groan and slam his head into the vending machine. It helps that he doesn’t want Jackson to see that he’s gotten to him. So he collects his drink, gripping the cold metal can to help him stay calm.

“How do you cheat in bowling?”

Jackson takes a step forward so he is crowding Scott against the machine. “I don’t know, but you did. And I don’t know if it’s steroids or something weirder…” Pause. “I’m guessing something weirder since it’s pretty obvious that you’re a freak. So don’t think for a second I’ve given up on finding out what your little secret is.”

“I don’t have any secrets.” Lie of the century.

“Yeah you do,” Jackson persists. “And I don’t know why, but I think whatever it is you’re hiding, you don’t want her to find out about it, either.”

He stares straight over Scott’s shoulder. Scott turns his head to see Allison changing out of her bowling shoes, her back to him. When he turns back, he sees Jackson’s face in a sea of red and - 

“Oh hey! I see you got me my drink! What’s up Jackson? Here to ask for bowling tips? Well sorry but I gotta get my ass home and I needa send ol’ Scott here back too so yeah, I’m taking him. Have a good night! Or not!”

Stiles literally drags him all the way to the carpark.

* * *

Stiles’ phone beeps shortly as they pull out of Allison’s street. The bud driver died in the hospital. Scott jumps from the jeep before either Stiles or Lydia can do anything.

Scott throws himself at Derek without thinking. There’s no reason for Derek to hide in the woods unless he did something. Killed the driver. Killed his sister. Somewhere at the back of his mind is the idea that Derek will try to kill his friends - or worse, make him do it.

Derek overpowers him easily. “I didn’t kill him,” he growls, throwing Scott to the floor. Scott is pretty sure he heard his bones crack, but he can also feel them kneading themselves back together. Like the splinters are growing over each other until they morph back into their normal structure.

“It’s not your fault, and it’s not mine,” Derek continues.

“This is all your fault!” Scott yells. “You ruined my life!”

“I’m not the one that bit you!”

And the his head is spinning, the idea of “there is another” and “alpha” and “part of his pack” swirl around his mind like a whirlwind.

“Scott, you’re the one he wants.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am _raspberrylimonade_ on tumblr and _stlnkissmartin_ on twitter


	4. Magic Bullet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow it feels like forever since I updated this. I also took more time writing this than I thought I would.
> 
> As always I am stlnskissmartin on twitter and raspberrylimonade on tumblr.

“If Derek isn't the Alpha, if he's not the one who bit you, then who did?” 

“Did the Alpha kill the bus driver?” 

“Does Allison's dad know about the Alpha?”

Scott loves Stiles and Lydia. But both of them have a compulsive need to _know_ things (well, Stiles has always been too curious for his own good and Lydia is like a black hole when it comes to gathering knowledge) and right now, their questions are driving him over the edge.

“I don’t know,” he answers over and over again.

 Lydia sighs. “Alright then,” she says, “You have a test to make up. Do you need help studying?”

Scott smiles. That’s Lydia, always on top of things.

On any other day, he would gladly accept Lydia’s help. This time, though, Allison actually invited him over to study. _Just_ study. Unlike what Stiles thinks.

“If you go to her house today and squander that colossal opportunity, I swear to God I’ll – ”

“Stiles,” Lydia warns, shooting him a glare. It shuts him up.

* * *

Derek really can’t be bothered to put up with this jock right now. He can feel the poison from the silver creeping through his veins, draining away his power. He needs to find Scott, now.

He filters through the sounds he can hear, listens in on pointless student chatter, until one voice snatches his attention.

He recognizes the voice. It’s Lydia’s, that girl Scott hangs out with along with the other boy, Stiles.

“Scott’s going to yours tonight, huh?” Lydia is saying.

“We’re just studying,” another female voice replies. It takes Derek a while, but he places it as Allison, the one Scott left at the party when he shifted.

 _No, goddammit Scott_ , is his first thought. But then he realizes his opportunity. He needs the same type of bullet Kate Argent used on him. Fine. If Scott is going to flirt with the enemy, he may as well make himself useful.

He continues listening to the girls, though, because he still needs Scott’s location, and it’s better than listening to Jackson Whittemore talk.

“I know Stiles is hoping something will happen.”

“Oh my god, he can’t be serious. After one date?” Allison asks.

“As long as you don’t scare him away,” Lydia replies casually. Then she scoffs. “Oh my god, Allison, I’m not popular but I’m not a prude.”

Maybe he should just go to the parking lot and find Scott’s bicycle. Or Stiles’ jeep.

* * *

“You know, that night, after the game? In the locker room?” There’s a faint pink blush spreading across Allison’s fair cheeks.

Lydia nods.

“Well, Scott told me I make him nervous, and honestly, the reverse is true too.”

Lydia doesn’t know which is stronger – her excitement for Scott, because hey, the girl he likes actually likes him back, or her sympathy with Allison because she has had plenty of experience with boys who make her nervous. (Well, one boy.)

“You really like him, don't you?”

 Allison starts rambling about how Scott was ‘different’ and how she couldn’t explain it. (Lydia can, it’s the brain flooding with phenylethylamine.)

She looks away from the brunette as her phone beeps with a new message. _Stiles_.

* * *

Stiles hates Derek Hale. The guy has the audacity to show up at school bruised and bleeding and ask for a ride. By throwing himself in front of the jeep. And is now bleeding all over Stiles’ seats. Maybe he should just burn the 48 hours and let the guy die. Scott might be willing to find that bullet that so happens to belong to Allison’s aunt, but Stiles isn’t. Let him repeat: Derek was bleeding all over his seats.

He steers with one hand while opening a text from Lydia. _Allison saw Derek and asked why he’s here if he’s not really our friend. I said he knows your family and the rest of us just know him._

Great, so now Derek freaking Hale, werewolf and murder suspect, is a family friend. Joy.

 _Sorry_ , a second text from Lydia reads. _I know you don’t like him_.

“You know,” Derek groans, “you shouldn’t use your phone when you drive.”

Yeah, Stiles really hates the guy.

* * *

“So, uh, I figured we could start with, um, history,” Scott stutters, the same time Allison blurts out a “I kinda wanted to do something that’s not studying.”

_Wait, what?_

He’s caught off guard, not to mention still shaken up by the sudden appearance of bleeding and dying Derek, so Scott just kind of gapes at Allison.

The girl frowns. “What’s wrong?”

Once they’ve gotten past that awkward conversation and affirm that neither of them are not doing anything they don’t want to do, Allison finally reveals what she means by “not studying”. And thank god it’s not Stiles’ definition.

“So…” she starts, speaking slowly. “Lydia and Stiles?”

Scott figures she must have picked up on Stiles’ protective behavior at the bowling alley.

“Yeah,” he tells her. “For about eight years now.” He does the math in his head to fact-check his statement. Since the third grade is…yep, eight years and counting.

Allison is delighted by this information and asks him how it happened.

“I don’t really know, just that one day Stiles kissed her – on the cheek – I think it was just like a spur-of-the-moment thing? And the next day when he saw my mum at the hospital he just announced it.”

In his head, he can still hear Stiles’ pre-pubescent voice declaring to an entire reception of nurses that he had met the love of his life and will marry her one day.

Scott chuckles at the memory. When he looks at Allison again, her brows are furrowed in confusion.

“Wait,” she says. “So Stiles knows? But then why didn’t they – ”

“ – Stiles knows – w-what did he do?”

There’s a pause, then

“Okay, Lydia has a crush on Stiles since -”

“No, Stiles has a crush on Lydia…”

Another pause.

“Oh my god,” they say in unison.

* * *

Scott honestly forgot that Allison’s family members are werewolf hunters. He just got caught up telling Allison about growing up with Stiles and Lydia, and listening to Stiles talk about his infatuation with their friend. Allison, in return, shared her observations regarding Lydia’s behavior around Stiles.

He can’t believe he didn’t see it before. Lydia never said anything about it.

Anyway, the revelation pushed all thoughts about werewolves and hunters out of his mind. Until Allison’s father and aunt returned, that is. Mr Argent solemnly asked him to help bring in the groceries, and Scott’s sure it’s just an excuse to show him the extensive collection of firearms in their garage.

“We're not some sort of separatist gun-nut family,” Allison tries to explain. “My dad sells firearms to law enforcement.”

Then he asks her if she knows how to fire a gun, and she pulls out her compound bow.

He is _so_ screwed.

And if that’s not enough, Kate Argent is scarily friendly for someone who shot someone else with an assault rifle last night. She even invites him to stay for dinner.

* * *

 

“Okay so the Grinch here insists he needs the bullet,” Stiles’ voice practically seethes through the phone. There’s a rock song playing loudly in the background to indicate his annoyance. “Because if we don’t find it then he dies and if he dies he won’t help Scott resist the Alpha and if Scott can’t resist the Alpha then next time he has to kill or be killed. Sooooo you have to break into Allison’s house and find the bullet.”

“ _Are you crazy?_ ” Lydia hisses. “This isn’t sneaking into each other’s houses when we were _twelve_ Stiles! And did you also think about the fact that they sell firearms and could easily shoot me if I get caught?!”

“Scott’s gonna keep them in the dining room,” Stiles explains. “Also he was totally freaking out over how their house is the Walmart of guns and one bullet is a needle in a haystack but personally, I think you just need to find Kate’s bags, okay?”

“Why can’t _you_ find the bullet?”

“Because I’m stuck being the chauffeur to a dying, grumpy, unfriendly – _ow! We are trying to save your sorry ass here okay? You could at least show some gratitude_ – werewolf!” She hears him huff dramatically through the speaker and imagines him shaking his head in frustration.

* * *

 

Luckily, Allison’s windows are unarmed and left open. It also helps that there was a fairly wide ledge beneath them that joins up to the garage roof, making it easy for Lydia to climb a tree, scale the wall of the house, then climb into her new friend’s bedroom.

Once inside, Lydia checks the hallway, then carefully exits the room before carefully treading to the next. Scott, Allison, Mr and Mrs Argent and Kate are all downstairs, and at one point someone says something and they all laugh.

She finds Kate’s room soon enough. The walls aren’t decorated and a couple of bags and a luggage lie at the foot of the bed. The door is ajar. Taking a deep breath, Lydia slips inside.

She unzips the longest duffel and viola. There’s a rifle inside and she jerks back even though she already anticipated seeing the weapon. Boxes are also scattered inside – how is she supposed to know which type of bullet Kate used?

 _Think,_ she coaxes herself. _You can figure this out_.

She gingerly prods each box. Some have labels on the sides. They could be a clue. Finally, she sees a drawing on the lid of a small wooden box: a small bluish-purple plant. In her mind, she flashes back to Stiles waving a similar picture he printed off the internet in her face.

 _Wolfsbane_. Sure enough, the small print beneath the picture states ‘Northern Blue Monkshood’. She carefully opens the box. There are eight compartments, all but one holding a bullet.

She quickly pockets the bullet and darts back to Allison’s room.

* * *

 

She has just hopped off the tree and is about to head back to her car when Mrs Argent comes out with the trash. The woman glances in her direction and it’s dark enough that she could have not noticed the girl on the sidewalk standing a little too close to their garden, but Lydia isn’t taking her chances. Running off would be too suspicious, so she improvises.

She fakes a pant as she tells Allison’s mother she is looking for Scott, then rambles something about how his boss needs him at the clinic. She runs up to him and shoves the bullet along with her car keys into his hand, wrapping his hands around both objects and hoping she comes across as frantic.

Scott drives away and the Argents invite Lydia in to finish his dessert.

* * *

 

Stiles is surprised to see Scott barrel into the clinic instead of Lydia, but hey he was just manhandled into nearly sawing Derek’s arm off, so he’s not complaining.

Also, it’s a good thing Scott is here, since of all things to do with a bullet Derek had to drop it into a drain. He doesn’t think Lydia would appreciate ruining her manicure to dig it out. Meanwhile, Derek passed out and Stiles can’t say he would be disappointed if the guy never woke up. Sure, they would have gotten the bullet for nothing and Scott will have to face the alpha alone but Stiles likes to think they can work the second part out, Scott, Lydia and himself.

He tries to punch the guy anyway, since if Derek isn’t dead he will wake up and Scott can save the day, and if he is dead he can’t stop the punch he totally deserves for stinking the jeep up with the smell of blood and constantly threatening Stiles’ life.

For the record, Derek wasn’t actually dead. Also, rubbing burnt gunpowder into a wound looks really unhygienic.

* * *

 

Scott doesn’t trust Derek. Even standing before half-burnt Peter Hale, he doesn’t really believe it. If Derek is this unpleasant, his family couldn’t have been far behind. It’s hard to feel sympathy for someone like that. And there is no reason to believe Allison will take after her parents.

Later, Stiles will point out that he could be biased in making that last statement, but they still don’t trust Derek anyway.

* * *

 

Allison insists they eat dessert (strawberry shortcake) in her bedroom because dinner with Scott was “the worst, most horribly awkward dinner ever in the history of horribly awkward dinners. Oh my god, please tell Scott I’m so incredibly sorry.”

“I don’t think he minded going through all that for you.”

“You didn’t see, they were asking him all these weird questions and scaring him with some story of my grandfather killing a dog. I mean, is it all just some weird test parents do when you bring home a boy? Oh gosh it was terrible,” Allison rambles. She could be Stiles’ sister, Lydia muses. Fair, dark hair, talks a lot when they are nervous.

They talk about Scott (“He’s so nice. And a little weird, but it’s endearing, you know?”) and then they end up talking about Stiles (“What? He’s smart. I’m just stating a fact. Stop looking at me like that.”). They talk about school and people and whether having no boyfriends until college actually works.

Lydia realises she likes this, having a girl friend. Stiles and Scott are her best friends for life, but you can’t talk to boys about some things such as, well, boys.

It gets late before they both realise it. Allison brings their dessert plates downstairs while Lydia gathers her things. Before she exits the room, she notices a detail she didn’t see before: Allison’s desk calendar. The date for tomorrow has been circled in purple pen ink, with a smiley face and a cake in the box. Lydia smiles, ideas already blooming in her head.

Allison meets her in the hallway. “Thanks for hanging out with me tonight.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” Lydia replies, patting down her pockets to see if she has everything. She fins she left her phone upstairs, and Allison insists on getting it for her. Still, Lydia moves down the hallway and waits at the bottom of the stairs.

That’s when she hears Chris Argent and Kate talking in the next room.

“The one that attacked me was big,” Kate is saying. “But the one I shot was lean and fast.”

“Well, that would be Derek Hale,” Allison’s father surmises. Lydia covers her mouth with her hand when her breath hitches.

“Well, how do we know it's just two of 'em?” Kate asks, and Lydia exhales through her fingers. They don’t know about Scott.

“We don't yet,” Chris says, as if responding to Lydia’s thoughts. “But if Derek's still alive, he will lead us to the Alpha.”

Lydia finds herself leaning towards the entryway, but then Allison is coming down the stairs with Lydia’s phone in hand, smiling like everything in Beacon Hills is perfectly normal.

It's not.

And she has a feeling it's about to get even crazier.

**Author's Note:**

> I am _raspberrylimonade_ on tumblr and _stlnskissmartin_ on twitter.


End file.
